


One

by benedictedcumberbatched



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-His Last Vow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-08
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-08 00:31:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1919940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benedictedcumberbatched/pseuds/benedictedcumberbatched
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock realizes something one night and finds himself at Molly's door.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One

**Author's Note:**

> As always, Sherlock and Molly don't belong to me. 
> 
> This fic is inspired by the song 'One' by Ed Sheeran, which also does not belong to me.

A loud knock on the door roused Molly from the two hours of sleep she had been in the process of extending after a long shift at Bart’s. Her name came floating through the door, muffled of course, but there was no mistaking who was on the other side. Molly pushed her hair off her face as she stomped to the door. “This had better be good, Sherlock!” she called out before opening the door.

The detective looking slightly harried and a bit worse for wear stumbled in. Molly closed the door behind him and turned to face him, frowning at the smell of alcohol on him. It had been a couple of months after his short exile and Moriarty had been taken down once and for all. Surely he wasn’t still on about it? Sure, she had suffered the most, being held at his hand for two days and whatnot, and the scar, small and insignificant in the grand scheme of things, a small nick that occurred as Sherlock had taken down Moriarty on her side the only reminder of those horrible couple of days. But why would he still be upset?

“What are you doing here at this hour?” she asked. It wasn’t the first time he had shown up at her door in the middle of the night and it likely wasn’t to be the last but this time something looked wrong with him. “Have you been drinking?” she asked.

Sherlock grimaced as he ran his hands through his hair, his back to Molly before spinning on his heel and taking two long strides toward her. He gently grabbed the sides of her face pulling her up to meet him as he kissed her.

Molly froze. Her eyes were wide as she reached for her other arm hanging loosely at her side and gave it a good pinch. She winced. Okay, not dreaming then. But before she had the chance to respond in any way, Sherlock pulled back. He looked less pained but now much how she had seen him so long ago, open, afraid, all the nerve endings he so carefully hid open and raw to her own emotions.

Molly could still feel his lips on hers, tingling slightly. She raised a hand to them as she stared at Sherlock. “W…what was…” she started to say, her voice cracking.

“Molly, to answer your question, yes I have been drinking but I’m not impaired. Okay, maybe a little, otherwise I never would have had the courage to do that. However, that’s not why I’m here. Okay, not completely. I’m, I’m not good at this. But I realized something when I was going back to Baker Street,” he stopped, his face showing the struggle he had going on within.

“Do…do you want to sit?” she offered, letting him figure things out. Molly led the way to the sitting room, and directed Sherlock to sit on the couch. She sat beside him, her legs curled under her before grabbing the throw blanket and wrapping it around herself. “So, what did you realize?”

Sherlock took a deep breath before beginning. “Well, my feet instead of going toward Baker Street came here and along the way, I realized something. When I came back, I thought I had lost you. No, I didn’t lose you physically, you were still there, ever eager and ready to help me when I asked or demanded. Sorry for that, by the way, for all of it. But I had lost you nonetheless to Tom. I had lost something I never had in the first place.

I meant what I said, I am fairly grateful for the lack of a ring. I realized,” Sherlock swallowed hard, his eyes closing for a moment. He opened them and looked at Molly. “I realized you are the only one. John has Mary, sure, he’s still around and so is she, but you, Molly, you are the one who matters most, you are the only one. I don’t want to lose you again. I need you, Molly. You are not only my friend, something I never thought possible in the first place, but you’re everywhere I look now. You’re in my mind palace, you’re beside me when I take a cab home from the lab even when you’re not, you’re even in my mind when I make coffee in the morning.”

Molly laughed softly and wiped at the tears in her eyes.

“No, I wasn’t supposed to make you cry!” Sherlock exclaimed, his own shirtsleeve replacing her fingertips.

“It’s happy tears, Sherlock. While what you said is very, well, sweet, I’m afraid I don’t quite understand.”

Sherlock nodded, trying to think of a better way to explain. He reached up, gently cradling her face between his hands. He leaned forward and kissed her gently. “You are the only one and there will never be anyone else I set my sights on. I understand if you want to maintain a strictly professional relationship and I respect that, but I will never leave you again. You have always seen me, the real me for who I am; you hold my heart. I suppose, one way to put it is that I love you, Molly Hooper.”

Molly smiled, her hand trailed over his cheek before she pulled him in for a kiss.


End file.
